Barely holding on with a hand chalked for a better grip, Cedar Wright ignores burning muscles to pull himself across the roof of Gravity Ceiling, a route on Higher Cathedral Rock. “I’m giving it 199 percent,” he says. “But I still thought I was calm and cool.”

Despite the obvious risk, this spot on the Regular Northwest Face route on Half Dome is a welcome reprieve for Alex Honnold, who became a rock star at age 23 when he first climbed the famed route without a rope. Composite of four images

Jorgeson (at left) and Caldwell live in a “portaledge” 1,500 feet above the valley for up to two weeks when working on a route. The best amenities in their studio in the sky? A French press for coffee and iPhones (charged with a solar panel).

You need training to boost finger strength and a mountain of determination to grip the teeny holds along this mostly blank expanse of El Cap. Even though Kevin Jorgeson’s been climbing parts of the route for three years, he was amazed by this photo: “There’s so little of me touching the wall.”

“You can be as strong as you've ever been and not be ready for these moves,” Jorgeson says, as he clings with fingertips to barely visible handholds on El Cap. Like many professional climbers, he trains relentlessly to keep fit.

On El Capitan, the 200-foot-long rope known as the Alcove Swing draws climbers and their buddies looking for another form of adrenaline-fueled entertainment—sometimes using a skateboard on the ramp for extra momentum.

Kate Rutherford can’t hear a thing while climbing so close to the roar of Yosemite Falls. She can’t find much to hang on to either. The water polishes the rock “like glass.” Wearing tape on her hands, she has to repeatedly jam them into fissures for the ascent. Spectacular scenery makes up for the discomfort. The climbing route is called Freestone, Rutherford says, because “it’s a peach of a route.”

This 40-foot-long sliver of granite on Half Dome, named the Thank God Ledge, is the only way to get beyond the Visor, a massive roof that looms over the Regular Northwest Face route. Most people crawl, says Alex Honnold, but he prefers to walk it, face out, since that’s “cooler.” The 30 seconds it takes to get across requires absolutely no technical climbing skill, but even Honnold admits it’s sobering to look at 1,800 feet of air.

“It feels like I’m hovering in space,” says Dean Potter, perched on a highline above Yosemite Falls. Gusting winds and blinding mist make it tough to balance on the inch-thick rope 2,600 feet above the valley, but a tether attached to his waist protects him from disaster.

Leaping from Half Dome is illegal, but in Yosemite the sport of BASE jumping is soaring in popularity anyway. Climbers say it’s faster (and more fun) to parachute into the valley than to hike all the way down the back of the mountain.